


Changes In Flight Plans

by StoryCloud



Category: The Land Before Time (Movies)
Genre: AU, Gen, Land Before Time seven, One-Shot, Petrie tells his uncle off, Slight Canon Divergence, Slightly - Freeform, add-in scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 01:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryCloud/pseuds/StoryCloud
Summary: A little add-in scene, if you will, slight canon divergence - Petrie briefly spies on and confronts his uncle after reuniting with Ducky in the caves, instead of later on when they discover the stone.





	Changes In Flight Plans

**Author's Note:**

> This was written quite a while ago, just an exploration - so it won't be continued; its written to fit into the movie as a little extra scene perhaps.

He told himself to be brave.

Be fearless. Be like Ducky. She’d had it far worse throughout all this. Be like Littlefoot. Be like Cera –

A sleep-induced grumble interrupted Petrie’s thought process. Almost deliberately. All right, maybe not like Cera. But he understood what his own thoughts were advising. They were his, after all.

And this was his fault.

Really, all his fault. A nauseating wave of guilt washed over his spindly body, and Petrie’s gait wavered. He breathed took a moment to breathe. In and out.

They’d found Ducky and some of that niggling guilt had subsided.  These adventures went by so quickly, it was hard to keep track of all of the events. But, like walking on a tight vine over an abyss (which his land-living friends had done not long ago…in this very chasm, actually!) If you thought too much about the terror, you’d end up slipping.

His uncle hadn’t slipped, though, had he?

Petrie ran his claws over his eyes, humming fretfully to himself. The sun was rising, and he hadn’t gotten any sleep. At all. They’d found Ducky in this cave; an opening a long way up the chasm. The cave ledge overlooked a river, but inside they were safe. They hadn’t gone out.

They’d rested. They’d needed it. And just as they had done so long ago when they were travelling to the valley, they had all huddled together. Cera, Littlefoot, Spike with Ducky curled up on his back. But Petrie wandered away feeling ill.

He didn’t know why. They’d talked about it. The young flyer peered out of the cavern at the river below. He refrained from venturing out onto the ledge. It was too exposed. Cera drilled that into them, making for a good impression of her father. They’d get out using the caves Ducky had been wandering in. They were not risking another wayward swing in the chasm.

And yet something nagged him. Go out, it said, stretch your wings.

But it was  _scary._

Your instincts say so.

Petrie ground his beak shut, annoyed with himself. He wandered out onto the ledge, small feet pattering on the rock. He blinked. He peered. He beamed.

Nothing. Just this rocky ledge, the cave mouth and the river far, far below. There was fresh air out here and the night circle. It was almost like being home…

Mama would be worried.

He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his palms against his eyelids to force away the guilt.

Then, he heard murmuring. His eyes snapped open.

He froze on the spot, a shudder racking his body – but then he realised that no, wait, it wasn’t coming from here. It was…up. Up the chasm. He squinted, stepping back a few good paces.

Petrie’s beak fell open.

A few ledges up, moving as dark shadows against the moonlight, were three unmistakable figures. Flyers. Two crest-less.

Petrie gave an audible gulp. With any other adventure, at any other time, he would have run screaming back into the cave to alert his friends of the danger lingering above them, waiting to drop on their very heads. That idea scared him.

But what scared him even more was that it was – Pterano. His  _uncle_.

_He never hurt us. He sad when Ducky fall!_

And this was his doing, his mess. And since it was his uncle, it wasn’t like other times. He glanced sideways at Cera, frowning even in her sleep. Blaming him even then, maybe…

That annoyance, though he knew her anger was warranted, pushed him to do the reckless, Littlefoot like thing.

He crept towards the wall, and as quietly as he could manage, he climbed.

…

“Why don’t we just go  _down_  there and get them to talk right now?” An ill-bred growl cut through the midnight air.

“I  _repeat,_ Mr Sierra,” A cordial voice on the verge of breaking replied, “They will not discuss anything by force, and the cave is too low for our wings to be of any use – they will flee, they will have the advantage, and we will have no clue of what the rainbow faces told them.”

“Look,” A nasally third cut in, “Can’t we just get some sleep already? My back aches like nobody’s business.”

“Indeed,  _nobody’s business_.” Pterano drawled, sweeping a wing over his shoulder and stalking away. Sierra flopped down against a rock, muttering profanities under his breath. Rinkus was sprawled over the same rock behind him, eyes lidded and heavy.

Petrie pulled himself just behind an arch-like stone hanging over the chasm, perfectly hidden. He pressed his back against the cool rock, chest heaving. He’d suddenly realised that, er, maybe, this wasn’t a good idea.

But he was doing good, wasn’t he? Hearing their plans.

It was – so strange, listening to his uncle speak like this. Hiding. Snooping. It was like the flyer on the other side of this rock wasn’t the same person, but some other flyer who looked like him. Petrie peered around the arch, doing his best to hold his breath.

His eyes landed on Sierra. He was scary. Very scary. Looking at him was hard. Rinkus? He’d hit him right out of the sky, and Petrie was fairly sure it still hurt…

“Those brats are more trouble than they’re worth.” The sepia flyer was growling. His pink companion pressed his claws over his eyes, oddly like Petrie had been doing a moment ago.

“I just wanna  _sleep_.”

“If we hadn’t been sittin’ around plottin’, we woulda been there, but nope, you had to blabber and that brat had to hear.”

“Perhaps if I didn’t have to relay painfully obvious instructions to you again and again, I wouldn’t  _need_  to  _babble_.” Pterano’s voice was sharp, cold, and unfamiliar, and Petrie hated that it made him flinch.

He risked another peek around the rock. Pterano was standing with his hands on his hips, scowling foully at the other flyer. Sierra cocked his beak to one side,

“ _Well_ , Pterano. What do you suppose we do?”

“Wait until morning, as I said.” The latter turned and stalked away, out of sight, “Now forgive me, but I’d like a moment away from you two. And stay here. Don’t even think about –“

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Sierra muttered, tucking his arms behind his back. Petrie sensed the talk was over, and sighed a silent sigh. He began moving down the chasm again. There were a few ledges between this one and the one that housed the opening to the cave, so he had time to…think.

They had to leave before morning, he guessed. Hide, maybe. They were going to wait.

He’d gotten some information, that had to help, right? Maybe Cera would stop glaring at the back of his head now. Maybe he’d stop feeling like she wanted to knock him over ever five minutes.

He hoped onto the middle ledge between the cave one below and the top of the chasm, huffing in a resigned sort of way. His eyelids drooped as another wave of melancholy took over him.

The younger flyer didn’t quite understand why he felt sad. He folded his claws over each other, and simply sat there for a moment.

_Swoosh._

_Thud._

He had a split second to look up and let his soul freeze. Sierra had swooped down and landed right in front of him, beak bore in a snarl and wearing a scowl so fierce it could have sent sharp teeth running. Petrie froze on the spot, unable to move, and simple quivered for a split second.

Then Sierra raised a wing, “You little –“

Petrie screeched, throwing himself back, wings tangling, he couldn’t catch his bearings. The swing missed him but Sierra advanced, looming, “How many snooping brats do I gotta deal with -?!”

“C-Cera,  _Littlefoot_  – “ His voice cracked, help help, oh no, Ducky, Spike –

A blur of red-brown and beige flew in front of him and a whack of a wing against beak ripped through the night air. Pterano had appeared, standing over him, striking Sierra right across the face with a pronounced smack. Petrie lay on his side in a quivering mess - then he bolted for the edge.

_He had to get away._

But then a hand caught him up in a fluid sweep.

He shrieked again, but then a soothing voice cut in,

“There, there, Petrie, it’s all right.” Pterano was holding him in both hands, firmly but gently. Petrie didn’t really register this, if anything it made it worse. He squirmed, trying to get away,

“Let go! You lie to me uncle, you lie to everybody!”

“Keep that brat of yours  _quiet_!” Sierra was hissing through his teeth, a claw pointing directly to Petrie’s head. The small flyer cowered, hiding his face in his own claws.

Pterano’s angered face would’ve made Mr Theehorn cower. It was terrifyingly cold. With one hand he held his nephew to his chest, the other shoved Sierra painfully back, “If you try to lay one more claw on my nephew’s head, you will regret it, I promise you.”

“Hmph.” Sierra relented, though anger still seeped off him like heat. Rinkus appeared; slow on the take-up, alarm replacing fatigue. His shock melted into disdain when he caught sight of Petrie.

“Oh, lemme guess, he knows more of our plan now? You two did your best keeping us all up with it.”

Sierra whacked him wordlessly about the head.

Petrie took this moment of distraction to wriggle out of his uncle’s hand and topple to the floor. He dove, once again, for the edge, to fly down, leap into the sleep pile and scream his head off that they needed to run.

None of that happened, though. Plan failed. Pterano stepped in front of him, frowning pointedly. Petrie skidded to a halt. “Petrie,  _do_  calm down.”

Now, Petrie had to gape at him for a second. He was acting like everything was – everything was fine. He could have screamed at him. You stole my friend. You made me feel bad. You made Cera take the lead and go on a vine bridge and slam into a cave.

Then a scowl, warping a face unused to housing it, came next. He turned away; making a small indignant noise exactly like his mother would when arguing with the other adults.

Sierra actually chuckled at the display, meanly.

“Don’t be  _difficult,_ Petrie.” Pterano drawled, putting on a more relaxed posture and kneeling down so he was more at level with him. “Just tell dear old uncle Pterano what you heard. You aren’t in any trouble.”

“Me in the biggest trouble!” Petrie’s resolve faltered the moment he opened his beak. He wanted to yell, sound angry, but unease took over. There was something brewing beneath Pterano’s voice, he couldn’t understand it but his gut heard it. Or maybe it was Sierra smirking and Rinkus glaring at him in the background, the two reminding him sharply and cleanly that his uncle was – was –

He stepped back.

Pterano looked surprised, for a moment, even hurt. For a second Petrie almost relented, seeing that, and part of him wanted to throw himself onto his uncle’s beak and beg forgiveness, assure him he still loved him and no, he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t afraid.

But then Pterano’s look turned a little sour and he stood up to his full height, “Petrie, listen to me – I’m doing this for the greater good, in the end, whatever the other grownups have told you –“ He moved, stepping by him, and Petrie shuffled away just a little, a subconscious movement when far larger people were stepping near. “Don’t force my hand, now. I don’t want to make this difficult.”

Petrie swallowed. “You make it difficult when you take Ducky.”

Pterano gave a curt sigh. “I  _explained_ , that, Petrie.”

“And you let mean flyer hit me out of sky!”

He’d struck a nerve. He hadn’t meant to. He was speaking sense, but Pterano was caught off there, wide-eyed and stiff. Sierra was smirking openly.

“I think I’m beginnin’ to like this kid.”

Rinkus was scowling at Petrie in a way that reminded him of the time he’d ratted out Hip, the bully, to his mother. Pterano heard Sierra’s remark and his eyes slid to the side, a scowl falling onto his mug.

“Mr Rinkus paid  _dearly_  for that, believe me.”

“You still  _with_ him.” Petrie’s voice wobbled.

There was a pause; clearly Pterano was trying to think of another reassuring thing to say. Sierra cackled lowly at his expense. A very, very small pause. Petrie shuffled towards the edge again.

Pterano saw him, but Petrie didn’t give him a chance to talk him out of it. He leaped, breaking into a glide, practically falling halfway down to the next ledge –

SNAP –

A blur of sepia grey, a crash of rocks. Sierra had tried to catch him and failed, but succeeded in throwing him off balance onto another ledge, but not the right one. Petrie hadn’t a second to breathe, as he came at him again – this time with a  _snap of the beak_.

“ _Sierra_!”

To his great surprise and relief, the flyer backed off, just a little. Petrie scrambled, huddled against the wall as he far as he could manage as his uncle and the pink flyer landed behind him. Pterano’s shoulders were hunched, claws slightly raised and Sierra rounded on him, mirroring the posture. A fight was just about a break out.

Petrie cowered, not knowing what to do; the two adult flyers stepped towards each other but - then the pink one threw himself in between. “Please, my friends, we should not be fighting – we want the same thing, yes – and we’re  _ever_ so sorry for hurting, your er –“

He glanced towards Petrie, his apologetic look turning a little poisonous. Pterano slowly straightened up, as did Sierra. Petrie shifted, giving a small yelp as his side sang in pain. That landing had  _hurt._

Pterano turned, eyes widening, “Petrie -?”

“Mm –“ Petrie tried to quench the distressed noise that made it out his beak, but Pterano was already drawing closer, kneeling down to scoop him up again – to which the small flyer ducked away, hands raised.

“Petrie…” Pterano’s voice, for once, held a tad of uncertainty. “You know I’d never harm you, yes?”

The guilt hit Petrie like a foot to the gut. It was Uncle Pterano, just Pterano. Knew him since he’d hatched. He wouldn’t ever hurt him.  _Ever_.

His head fell.

“Me know, Uncle.” He mumbled, peering at the rock, anything else. A single claw lifted his beak up, so he had no choice but to look at his uncle,

“Then why run? You and I can have a cordial word, can’t we?”

“…You do bad thing, Uncle, even if you good inside.” Petrie murmured, his voice straining. Pterano’s brow furrowed, a little, though maybe it was something to do with Sierra snickering in the background.

“Translation – the kid doesn’t trust you. Guess he’s smarter n’ he looks.”

“Please stay out of my family affairs, Sierra.” Pterano retorted sharply. Petrie got back to his feet, cringing at the sting in his side. He swayed on the spot, tripping over his own feet – and landed in his Uncle’s palm.

“There, now.” The flyer murmured, lifting him up again, “You’re frazzled, dear boy, just settle down and we’ll sort this out.”

Petrie was exhausted all right. Frazzled, scared, confused, tired, he just wanted to go home and pretend none of this had happened. Almost instinctively, he latched onto his uncle’s beak like he used to do when he was little more than a hatchling.

Pterano returned the hug, gently, and Sierra made a distinctive gagging noise whilst Rinkus looked away. “This is all real  _cute n’_ all, but the kid still heard what you were yappin’ about.”

Pterano drew away a little, Petrie still nestled in his hand as he eyed his companion sourly, “ _I_ will handle this, Sierra. Please, as they say -  _Shut up.”_

Petrie, in his weary state, was almost inclined to let his uncle protect him. To let him ‘sort it out’. But then, that nagging sensation in his gut returned, and Littlefoot’s worried words tumbled through his brain.

_Sometimes he uses his words to fool you._

“Me know nothing.” He said, a little too loudly, drawing the three elder flyer’s attention back to him. His smile was impeccably forced, “Me just…go out for stretch.” He mimicked a stretch, but realised it wasn’t that bright of idea, what with a sore side and all. “Ouch.”

“Petrie, I’m sure my sister is thankful that you are a terrible liar.”

And Petrie was thankful his uncle seemed more amused, though he did catch the way his eyes had narrowed  _just_ a little. That was fine. No one liked being lied to their face…

And neither did Petrie.

“Maybe she like it if you not as good liar, Uncle.” He mumbled, beak falling. Uh oh, he hadn’t meant it to sound like that -

“Now that was rather  _uncalled_  for.” Pterano said, slowly, a sharper note falling into his tone. Petrie cringed. The words came out before he could stop them,

“ _Please_ , Uncle. Please stop going after stone of cold fire. Please come back to Valley and forget it all happen!”

Pterano’s beak parted.

For a moment, Petrie dare to hope that perhaps, he’d considered it, for a moment. Then a rather cold look came over his uncle’s face, then his entire posture, just like when he’d dismissed him when he’d begged him to let Ducky go. The smaller flyer gave an audible gulp as the latter straightened up, beak lifting,

“When we find the stone and I restore us to our rightful place in the world, you’ll understand that what I do –“ He pointed a claw towards him, to which he recoiled just a little, “Is for the  _greater_ good.”

Petrie stared up at him, then at the two others behind him. They’d come closer, ominously silent. He began backing up. “Me…just…go back…to friends n-now…”

“I’m afraid –“ Pterano measured a small space between his thumb and fore-claw, a frown moulding onto his face, “That you may have to make a  _small_ change in your flight plan, Petrie. That simply isn’t going to happen.”

“ _No_ , Uncle -” Petrie’s voice broke.

Rinkus drew out a long, rippling cackle. Petrie sank against the wall again. They would – he wouldn’t –  _Littlefoot, Cera_  –

He took off, upwards, skywards, memories from their first ‘adventure’ springing to mind. Go over your foe, over the target, use speed and small size and slip right through –

Pterano soared up, but Petrie banked left, diving rather recklessly downwards. Sierra made a violent swipe for him and Rinkus almost managed to cut him off, and soon all four flyers were off the ground. Petrie aimed for another downward dip but Rinkus flew in his way, blocking the route.

Petrie didn’t mean to do what he did next, but as with the sharp-tooth years ago, sometimes mad instinct takes over terror. He latched onto the pink flyer’s skull, little feet claws digging deep into the skin. He pulled at his eyelids at let them go with an audible  _SNAP._

_“OW!”_

They crashed onto the ledge, the right one, finally. Petrie hit the floor, his vision blurry, eyes barely open. His head reeled where he lay. “Mm…r…”

He heard a collection of gasps.

“Petrie!”

Littlefoot! Littlefoot would handle this; he’d know what to do…

Then, he heard two pairs of feet land on the rock on either side of him. His insides went cold. His eyes popped open with a gasp.

He felt a pair of talons slink around him and lift him up, before his senses returned to him.

A thunderous roar shattered the wayward tension. No, not a sharptooth, not an earth shake. Something as equally formidable. Petrie opened his eyes and saw Cera’s yellow self soaring overhead; blunt horns slamming neatly into Sierra’s torso. He watched his Uncle drawback, narrowly avoiding the collision – the pink flyer, not so much. Cera dug her feet down just in time to stop herself tipping over the edge; Sierra and Rinkus went flying over the side.

“Cera –“ Petrie’s voice cracked in surprise, because what, “You save me!”

The three-horn, who had been snarling viciously over the edge, glanced at him, smugness appearing quick as a wink, “Yah, so, no big deal.”

Neither of them noticed Pterano until he slunk to one side, his expression quite unreadable – but far from happy.

Littlefoot materialised behind Petrie, scooping him up onto his nose. The diminutive clung to his pinkish skin instinctively, just as Sierra reappeared by the cave – he’d recovered quickly, and looked ready to snap them in two.

“Quick, into the cave –“

Cera banked after the longneck, bucking at Petrie’s uncle for good measure – the older flyer couldn’t any anything against them by himself, and they could fly into the cave. Running after them was physically stupid.

And, Pterano had much more pressing matters to attend to. Sierra wasn’t one to be taken by surprise easily, but the back-hand to the beak sent him reeling.

He sent the Pterano a downright murderous glare, and if the scales were tipped any further he would have thrown himself into a full-on fight right then and there. Pterano forced himself to calm down. Regaining his composure quite magnificently, he stepped away and huffed. Though his teeth ground together more visibly than usual even then.

“If you try to lay a hand on the young ones again – my nephew especially – I’ll make sure you never see that stone in this lifetime.”


End file.
